


Ratings

by Lynda Sappington (HowNovel)



Category: Quantum Leap, Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1994-09-26
Updated: 1994-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Lynda%20Sappington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam leaps into the body of an ABC programming executive in May 1987. Can he save <i>Starman</i>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ratings

Ratings  
A STARMAN CROSSOVER WITH QUANTUM LEAP

 

by Abraxan

Copyright © 1994

 

Again, the sense of loss, of life suspended, of unnerving terror as, with absolutely no control over his destination, he leaped again. Sam became aware of his new surroundings and sat tense and quiet as he tried to assess the situation. He was in a large, elaborate board room of some kind, with a meeting or presentation going on. He wasn’t at the head table—that was a relief. Sam was seated with about twenty others, all but two of whom were men, around tables set in a “T” formation. Everyone wore expensive suits and haircuts, and had tablets, stacks of papers and cups of coffee in front of them. Their attention was riveted on the man standing at a podium near the head table. Beside the podium was an easel with a large chart board displaying a grid with days of the week across the top and numbers, no, some kind of time schedule marked down the left side. Colored rectangular cards with words or phrases on them filled each square of the grid.

Sam studied the grid, tried to make sense of the words written on the cards, glanced at the papers strewn before him. Some of the words on the cards seemed to be slightly familiar, but his swiss-cheese memory was betraying him, as usual. He tried to force his mind to focus, to recall where he’d seen those phrases before, in what context they were familiar, but the answers he sought stayed just beyond his reach. He frowned and shook his head in frustration. What good was it to be a Nobel Prize-winning physicist, a genius with skills and training in many fields, if he couldn’t remember simple things like the title of a TV show? TV show! That was it! Those cards were marked with the titles of television programs! What kind of meeting was this, with a grid of television programs and…

“Now, for the ratings and demographic analysis, Tim Hayden,” said the man doing the presentation, looking directly at Sam.

Sam gulped, looked back at the man and prayed his new name wasn’t Tim Hayden.

“Tim?” the man repeated, looking at Sam with concern. His expression cleared and he took on the persona of a side-show barker: “The ABC Television Network proudly presents our newest boy genius, Timothy S. Hayden.” When Sam remained miserably in his seat, the man continued, “I guess the new kid on the block is a bit nervous about his first presentation. Come on up, Tim. If you screw up, it’ll only cost you your job.”

Sam shook his head, a helpless kind of “me???” expression on his face, and muttered, “Oh, boy.” What had he gotten into this time? He ruffled the stack of papers in his hands, and his eyes were caught by a title on the second page: “Demographic and Ratings Analysis.” Whew. At least he had a tool to help him get through this…maybe. Where was Al?

“Um…okay,” he said as he slowly stood up. He glanced at the papers in front of the people on either side of him. They had the same pages he did. Maybe he could just read the information, point out some details, and sit down. He might be able to pull it off. As Al had told him many times before, “Just act like you know what you’re doing and people will usually believe it.” He hoped Al was right. Where was he?

Sam moved slowly to the podium, speed-reading the report as he went, relying on his photographic memory to make it look as if he knew and understood what was in the report. He settled the report on the podium, rubbed his hands together nervously, glanced at the clock and the sun streaming in the windows and opened with “Good morning” and a hopeful smile. That seemed safe enough. Now to the report.  
  
---  
  
“That wasn’t a bad beginning, Tim,” Ed, the man who had been sitting next to him, told Sam after the meeting, “but if you’re going to keep your new job, you’d better have more details and more confidence in your presentations.”

Sam was relieved just to have lived through the ordeal. “Thanks. I’ll do better next time.” _Please, God,_ Sam thought, _don’t let there be a next time!_ He and Ed walked down the hall together, stopping outside a door with Ed’s name on it.

“I mean it, Tim, you’d better get on top of this stuff. They’re going to be revising the schedule tomorrow, and they expect more than just a review of the written report to help them decide what to do.”

“Um…I’m open to suggestions, Ed. Any ideas?”

Ed considered for a moment before answering. “Well…you gave figures on the mail each show has received, but have you read the mail itself? Sometimes that gives you an idea about the education and income level of the fans, and sometimes, not very often, but sometimes that can have a bearing on decisions about the show.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Where can I get some of this mail?”

“I’ll have it sent to your office. Be prepared to burn the midnight oil, because there’s a lot of it. Just read a sampling of the mail for each show to get an idea of the kind of people you’re dealing with.”

Sam smiled with relief. At least now he had an idea of what to do next. “Thanks a lot, Ed. I’ll get right on it.”

Ed turned and went in to his office, and Sam wandered down the hall, glancing at all the name plates on the doors, hoping to find Tim Hayden’s office without making a major blunder. Finally, there it was, a door bearing a plastic plate inscribed “Timothy S. Hayden.” A middle-aged, heavyset woman with an anxious expression sat at the desk outside his door. He glanced at her name plate: Marie Keaton. Because there was no certainty that the woman behind the desk was actually Marie, he merely ducked his head and muttered, “Hello.”

“Oh, Mr. Hayden,” the woman began, “did it go all right? Did they like your report?”

Sam hesitated a minute, then grinned ruefully. “I don’t know if ‘like’ is the operative word here, but I survived.”

“It’ll go better next time,” she said with a warm smile. “Practice makes perfect!”

“Yeah. Practice makes…. I’ll keep practicing. Thanks for the encouraging words.” He started to open his office door, then turned back to the woman. “Do I have any messages or appointments for the rest of the day?”

“You have several messages, but no appointments.”

 _Whew,_ Sam thought, _that’s a help._ Aloud he said, “I’m expecting some mail to be sent over to me from Ed’s office. Please let me know when it arrives.”

Marie gave him a mock-salute. “Roger-wilco, boss!” she answered brightly.

A smile tickled the corners of Sam’s mouth as he returned her salute with a minimal version of one and pondered her saying “roger-wilco.” Was she ex-Army, or just possessed of an eccentric sense of humor? At least her cheerful attitude might make his stay here more pleasant than some leaps had been.

Sam sat behind the desk in the office and looked through the stack of Tim Hayden’s messages. He sighed, wondering how he was going to manage to return these calls and not make a total fool of himself. He put his head in his hands and wished as hard as he could for Al to appear. Wishing for Al to appear hadn’t worked before, but there was a first time for everything. No sooner was the wish formed in his mind than Al finally showed up.

“It’s about time!” Sam said as relief flooded his body. He looked at Al, then stared at his holographic guide in wonder. “What in the world are you decked out for?”

Al stood resplendent in a shiny purple suit, a silvery iridescent tie figured in purple and pink linked ovals, a small pink neon star glowing from the lapel. “I was at a dinner party when Gushie told me Ziggy had lost you. We’ve been working for hours trying to find you,” Al said with exaggerated dignity.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said, raising his hand to placate his friend. “I’m glad you finally found me. Why am I here?”

“Well, actually, that’s a good question,” Al replied. “Ziggy says your name is Timothy Scott…”

“Hayden, I know, Al. I work at this television network, and I’ve been in this job for just a short time, apparently,” Sam said.

“Right. It’s 1987. You’re thirty-six years old, you have a wife and two-point-six children…”

“Two-point-six children?” Sam asked.

“One in the oven, second trimester. Ziggy says there’s a sixty-three-point-four percent chance that you’re here to save this guy’s job.”

“Save his job from what?”

“From himself. It seems he doesn’t follow the company line on things. He’s about to make a big mistake.”

“What kind of big mistake?”

“It says here…” Al said, then frowned and hit the side of the handlink. A plaintive whine came from the handlink, then its blinking lights settled into a pattern again. “Ah. Here it is. He apparently was fired for doing something screwy with the TV schedule.”

Sam thought a moment. “So, all I have to do is not mess with the TV schedule when the opportunity to do so arises, then I can leap out of here, right?”

“So it would seem,” Al agreed.

“Sounds simple enough,” Sam said hopefully, although he knew that simple-sounding leaps rarely turned out to be as simple as they had sounded.

“I’ll go back and talk to this guy in the waiting room, see what he has to say for himself, and try to figure out what you need to know,” Al said as he turned to walk away from Sam.

An invisible door opened in front of Al. Just before Al crossed that veiled threshold, Sam caught a glimpse of the interior of the energizing chamber and a wave of homesickness hit him. If only he could go home as simply as Al, just by walking through a door. He frowned and looked down at the desk before him, forcing himself back to work so he could get this leap over with. Maybe the next leap would be the leap home. He held tightly to that hope.  
  
---  
  
Sam rubbed his eyes hard, then stretched and yawned. He’d been reading the mail Ed had sent over for hours. The rumbling of his stomach reminded him he hadn’t yet eaten. He looked at his watch, wondering if he could find the lunchroom or cafeteria or whatever food service this building had, and if they would still be serving lunch. He sighed when he saw it wasn’t anywhere near lunch time, but was almost 5:30 PM. Just as he noted the time, Marie opened the door.

“If you don’t need me for anything else, Mr. Hayden, I’m going home,” she said.

“Uh, yes, I mean, no, I don’t think I’ll be needing you any more today,” he answered. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” she said as she began to close the door. Just as the door was ready to shut, she threw it open and bustled inside. “Mr. Hayden, I just have to ask you something,” she said as she closed the door behind her. “Please? It won’t take a minute.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“May I sit down?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course! Let me get some of this mail off the chair,” he said as he gathered up the slithering pile of envelopes. Several letters fell to the floor, and he and Marie bumped heads as they both reached for the wayward mail. “Sorry,” Sam said. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, and I’m sorry, too. Isn’t that silly, us bumping like that?”

Sam nodded and smiled as he sat back in his desk chair, still clutching the slippery pile of letters. “What can I do for you?”

Marie took a moment to collect her thoughts, chewing her lip as she did so. “Mr. Hayden, I’ve worked for this network a long time, and I’ve worked for a lot of executives here. I must say, I’ve never seen anyone read the fan mail as diligently as you have today.”

Sam wondered where this line of questioning was going, and which of Tim Hayden’s obligations he’d neglected. “I, um, thought it might help me…” he began.

“Oh, I’m sure it would help the whole network if those in charge would pay more attention to what the people out there truly want,” Marie said.

“Don’t they?” Sam asked with genuine curiosity. He thought finding out what the people wanted was why the networks ran polls and tabulated ratings.

“Oh, no, sir. The bigwigs,” she stopped and a nervous laugh escaped her. “I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t use that term. You’re a ‘bigwig’ yourself.”

With a genuine smile at this endearing lady, Sam said, “I don’t feel much like a bigwig. What were you going to say?”

“I knew you were a nice person the day I met you,” Marie said.

“How long has it been now?” Sam said.

“Why, it’s been nearly a month now that you’ve been up here.”

Sam filed away that information, hoping it would help Al get a better handle on why he had leaped into Tim Hayden.

“Anyway, I guess I should get on with it, so you can get home to your family,” she continued.

 _My family,_ Sam thought. _Great. Why can’t I ever have a nice, uncomplicated leap?_ He gave Marie what he hoped was an encouraging look and waited for her to get to the point.

“I’ve noticed the amount of mail for the _Starman_ series,” Marie said hesitantly. Then her words came all in a rush. “Mr. Hayden, _Starman_ is the best show this or any other network has run in years and years. Have you ever watched it?”

Sam hesitated. What was he getting into? “Maybe once or twice.”

“Oh, wonderful! Which episodes?”

“I really can’t remember,” he answered honestly.

“Well, if you’ve only seen it once or twice, you may not have noticed all the good things about the show. It’s such a quiet, gentle show, it kind of has to grow on you. Most shows these days aren’t given enough time to be allowed to build an audience.”

“Yes, I’d have to agree with that.”

Marie bit her lip and frowned a moment as she considered how to present her case. “The positive values, the good role models, the quality of the parenting, the respectfulness of Starman’s teenaged son, are all rarities in today’s shows. My sister—she’s a school teacher—she says kids come into class every day repeating rude lines or even obscenities they’ve picked up off the TV shows they watch. They try out the lines that these smart-mouthed kids on the shows use and then wonder why they get in trouble. The kids on TV who say these things don’t get in trouble, but in the real world, school staff, the kids’ parents and other kids don’t like being talked to that way.”

“Don’t you think the language problem you’re speaking of could be from hearing those things at home?” Sam said.

“Oh, no, sir. My sister’s own children have picked up some of that way of speaking, and she and her husband never talk that way,” she assured him. “She has noticed that the children who say they watch _Starman_ are becoming more thoughtful and considerate of others. They are also more interested in learning about how the world around them works, scientific stuff, you know, and the oddities of the English language.”

“How does _Starman_ lead them to those kinds of interest?”

“The character Starman doesn’t understand all our language the way we do, and he asks such sweet, innocent questions. On one show, when he was offered another ear of corn, he was asked if he’d ‘like another ear.’ He reached up and touched his own ear and frowned, because he didn’t understand the question, then said ‘no, thanks, I already have one.’ That kind of gentle humor is very appealing to people of all ages. Starman and his son never make fun of anyone, but they try to understand the person and his problems, what makes that person the way he is, things like that. It’s such a refreshing show.”

“I take it you’re a fan of the show yourself,” Sam said with a smile.

“Oh, yes, sir, I am. But the network has jumped it around the schedule six times, and sometimes they don’t even advertise where it will be! They show it too late for families to watch it together, or for younger children to stay up to watch it. It needs to be in an eight or nine o’clock slot on a week night, possibly hammocked between two strong shows. It needs to be allowed the time to develop a stronger following. I’d hate for us to be as stupid as NBC was when they cancelled _Star Trek,_ but I’m afraid that’s where we’re going.” Suddenly nervous for having spoken so openly, Marie gulped. “I…I hope I haven’t offended you with any of this, sir, but they’re going to cancel _Starman_ in your next meeting, aren’t they?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know, Marie. I think it depends on a lot of factors.”

“Please, Mr. Hayden, would you try to save it? There aren’t any shows on any network right now that I’d risk my job for, but I felt strongly enough about _Starman_ to risk your displeasure.”

Sam smiled. He genuinely liked this dear lady. “I’m not displeased with you, Marie. I’m glad you were so open with me. I appreciate hearing such a clearly-thought-out opinion. I don’t think the ratings system gives us the kind of information we need to get a true picture of the quality of a show. Opinions like yours, and letters like these,” he said, indicating the stacks on his desk and the stuffed bags surrounding him, “tell me more about a show than mere ratings can.”

Marie dimpled with pleasure at his kind remarks. “Oh, Mr. Hayden, thank you. I’m not the only one who feels this way. If you talk with Clarice from Mr. Cintron’s office, she’ll tell you the same thing. She’s read the fan mail, especially the mail concerning _Starman,_ and she’s been very impressed with the quality of the viewers and their letters. I think you’ll find they’re quite different than the fans of other shows.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that already,” Sam replied.

A glance at her watch brought a distressed look to Marie’s pleasant face. “Oh, dear, I’ve kept you such a long time. I do apologize.” She stood and headed for the door. “Thank you so much for your time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow. Thanks for coming in to talk with me. It’s been enlightening.”  
  
---  
  
Having managed to find his way to Tim Hayden’s home, Sam struggled with the key ring, searching for the right key for the front door. He straightened in surprise when the door swung open before he’d even tried a key in the lock.

“Daddy! Daddy!” two children cried as they threw themselves at him. “You’re home!” Two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around his waist and squeezed him tightly.

Sam reached down to ruffle the hair of the children, then hesitantly leaned down to kiss them on top of their heads. “Hi, guys,” he said with a smile. The girl appeared to be about eleven years old, the boy eight or nine. Matched pairs of bright blue eyes peered from beneath identically-cut blond bangs.

“Guess what, Daddy?” the girl said as they all entered the house.

“What?”

“Mommy said there isn’t anything on TV tonight worth watching, so we’re going to watch her _Starman_ tapes after dinner. Won’t that be fun?” the girl asked with genuine enthusiasm.

Sam grinned and said, “Sure, that sounds great.” As the children prattled on about their day’s activities, he wondered why he was hearing so much about this one particular show, when there were so many with better ratings that were still in danger of cancellation. In his swiss-cheese mind he could remember watching and liking _Starman,_ as far as he could remember, he didn’t get to watch it often because it was preempted so many times for baseball games and other events. He knew he’d enjoyed the show, but he’d been studying so hard the one year it was on that it was months after its final airing before he realized it was gone. He looked forward to watching the tapes with the family tonight.  
  
---  
  
Dinner was strained, with Tim Hayden’s wife, Maggie, obviously cross with her husband for some reason. Sam tried not to make waves and just said barely enough to hold up his end of the table conversation. After helping Hayden’s wife load the dishwasher, he joined the children on the couch in the family room and settled back to enjoy _Starman_ with them.

“What are you doing?” Maggie asked as she stood staring at him.

Sam wondered what obligation he was ignorant of now. “Watching TV with the kids,” he answered. “Is there something else I should be doing?”

“You haven’t watched TV with us in months and months. For someone who works for the television industry, you sure don’t spend much time watching TV,” Maggie said, her head tilted to one side as she studied him. “What’s going on? Is there a problem at work?”

Sam decided to confront this problem head-on. “Why should there be a problem, just because I’m watching TV? Do you need me to help you with something? Have I forgotten an appointment? What?”

Maggie backed down, a confused look on her face. “It’s just that you haven’t had time for us. You’re always working, day and night, always have reports to read, reports to write…. Why is today different?”

“I guess I just need a break. Come sit here with me,” he invited with a shy smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.”

Maggie got her daughter to scoot over so she could sit next to her husband. Sam raised his arm and settled it comfortably around her shoulders, then smiled as she hesitantly began to relax against him. Eventually, she nestled her head on his shoulder, and he leaned his cheek against her hair. Sam savored the cozy feeling of the woman and children surrounding him on the couch. Leaping through time was a lonely business.  
  
---  
  
“Daddy, what’s an ‘endangered species’?” Kyle asked as the credits after the _Starman_ “Peregrine” began to roll.

“Well, son, it’s a designation they give to something, some kind of animal, for instance, like the peregrine falcon on the show, that’s in danger of becoming extinct. You do know that, right? When there aren’t any more of them alive, that’s called extinct.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, then. You heard them explain about the DDT softening the eggshells until they would break if the parent birds tried to keep them warm. When the eggshells broke, those babies died and the more babies that died, the fewer peregrines there were. With the help of places like the one they showed on this episode of _Starman,_ the birds are beginning to grow in number now.”

“So they won’t become extinct?” Kyle prompted.

“If things keep improving the way they have been, peregrines should be taken off the endangered species list in a few years,” Sam assured the boy.

“Starman said he’s an endangered species. He’s not endangered if he finds Jenny Hayden and they have more babies, or if Scott gets married and has more babies, is he?” Cassie said.

Sam pondered this question for a moment. Starman was an endangered species in many ways, most importantly as a television series. The show kept being brought to his attention. Could saving the show be why he was here? How could changing the fate of one TV show change history for the better? He looked at the girl waiting patiently for his answer. “Starman is the only being of his kind on Earth. That’s why he said he’s an endangered species. Scott is only half like him, and Scott’s children will be only one-fourth like him, so Starman is right, he is an endangered species.”

Cassie tilted her head and thought a moment before saying, “Is Scott related to you?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He’s a character on a TV show, not a real person. The real person, the actor, who plays Scott is C.B. Barnes. Why would you think I was related to him?”

Cassie got a very patient look on her face as she prepared to explain the obvious. “His name is Scott Hayden. Your name is Timothy Scott Hayden. It makes perfect sense.”

“Wow!” Kyle said as he jumped to his feet in excitement. “We’re related to Starman!”

“Kyle,” his mother admonished, “you weren’t listening to the whole conversation, were you?”

Kyle wasn’t listening to her, either. He danced around the room, singing, “We’re related to Starman, we’re related to Starman,” while his mother shook her head in frustration and Sam laughed. Cassie just gave Kyle the superior look older sisters have perfected over the centuries of man’s existence.

“He’s just a child. He doesn’t understand,” the girl said with a sigh.

Sam tugged gently at one of her blond ponytails. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. He seems to believe Starman is real. Let him dream. That’s one of the great things about being a kid.” Sam’s eyes crinkled as he watched the boy spinning and dancing, still singing his little song. “I used to watch for the Lone Ranger to ride by when I was little.”

“The Lone Ranger?” Cassie said.

“You know. Hi-yo, Silver and all that,” Sam replied.

“Oh.” Cassie’s eyebrows drew together as she thought a moment. “I’d rather have Starman and Scott show up at the door than the Lone Ranger. Scott’s cute!”

Maggie said, “Starman and Scott are both cute! So are you.”

“I’m not cute, I’m pretty!” Cassie insisted.

Sam leaned forward and studied her face seriously. “You’re right. You are pretty!”

“Do you think Scott would like me?”

Maggie answered, “I think he’s a little old for you.”

“He’s fourteen and I’ll be twelve soon!”

“In six months,” her mother said with a smile.

“He seems like a nice kid,” Sam said. “He might like you, but he lives in California, or C.B. Barnes does, anyway. You can decide what you like about Scott as a person, then look for those qualities in boys you know here. If you’re lucky, you may find a boyfriend who’s as nice as Scott and as cute as C.B. Barnes.”

Cassie considered this suggestion for a moment, then said, “That’s a good idea. Thanks, Daddy.”

Sam saw Maggie smiling at him. “What is it?” he said.

“I’m so glad you watched the tape with us. Now maybe you’ll understand why I’ve been talking about _Starman_ so much. Can you remember any other show we’ve watched with the kids that has made them ask so many questions, stimulated so much conversation and thought?”

“No,” Sam answered honestly. “Does this happen every time you watch the show?”

“Yes, it’s pretty consistent. When the show was preempted for a ball game, Kyle was upset and thought Starman had been caught by Fox, or was hiding on the dark side of the moon until it was safe to come out again.” Maggie shifted her weight around on the couch, holding her swollen stomach as she moved.

“Are you okay?” Sam said with concern.

“The baby’s just sitting on a nerve or something. I’m fine now,” Maggie said.

“Can we watch another episode, Mom? If we zip past the commercials, I’ll bet we can watch a whole ‘nother show before bedtime,” Cassie said.

Just then, Kyle danced back into the room. “Yeah! Let’s see another one!” he said.

“Okay. Which one?” Maggie said.

“’Blue Lights!’” the children answered as one. “I just love it when Scott’s playing with the sphere and the dancing lights won’t turn off,” Cassie went on.

“I love it when the lights run all through the town and light the place up like the fourth of July!” Kyle added.

“Okay, ‘Blue Lights’ it is,” Maggie said as she got up and changed the tape in the VCR.

“Wouldn’t it be cool to be able to do stuff with the sphere like Starman and Scott can?” Cassie mused.

“I think it would be cool to understand geometry like Starman does in this episode,” Maggie said as she straightened up from loading the VCR.

“Geometry?” Cassie said.

“Pay close attention when Scott’s explaining to his dad about how to play pool. Starman realizes that playing the game successfully requires a knowledge of geometry,” Maggie said. “He shows Scott that if you understand geometry, you can play pool better.” She chuckled, then added, “I wonder if that inspired Scott to study harder?”

“Is geometry a school thing?” Kyle asked.

“It’s a kind of math. You’ll learn about it in high school,” his mother replied.

“Why do we have to wait until high school?” Kyle said with obvious disappointment.

“I don’t really know. Tim, this sounds like a ‘daddy question’ to me,” Maggie said with a laugh.

Sam scratched his head and wondered how to handle the question. Finally, he said, “There are concepts of math you need to learn before you can understand geometry, so they teach you those things first, then you learn geometry when you’re ready for it.” He smiled down into the boy’s eager blue eyes. “But the geometry of pool is the kind of thing you may be able to understand now, if you can see it in your mind. Maybe you’ll understand better after we see this episode. If we don’t start it soon, you won’t be able to watch it all before bedtime, will you?” The children agreed, and the family began to watch the tape.  
  
---  
  
After the show, Cassie commented, “It was nice of Starman to fix things so that sheriff didn’t look foolish in front of his friends anymore, wasn’t it? It would be nice if everybody tried to fix their mistakes, or make things better for people like Starman tries to do.”

Sam smiled at the girl. “Yep, you’re right. You know, you can make things better for people like Starman does. Sometimes it’s hard or scary and takes a lot of courage, but it’s always a good feeling when you can make things right. It helps make the world a nicer place.” He kissed the children goodnight, then sat staring at the bulging briefcase he’d brought home with him.

“Time to get back to work, huh?” Maggie said. “It’s okay, I know you have a lot to do. It was nice that you took the time to sit and watch TV with us for as long as you did.”

“I enjoyed it,” Sam said sincerely. “And it was helpful, too. I’m doing some research on _Starman_.”

“You’re kidding, right? How could you research him?”

“Not him, the show. It gets a lot of fan mail, not as much as the blockbuster shows, but some of these people write over and over, and each letter is different, not form letters. I talked with the producers on the phone today, and they told me a grassroots campaign has begun to try to save the show. People are spending a tremendous amount of time and effort to support a TV show, of all things. These letters are from educated people who see things in _Starman_ that people never seem to notice in other shows.”

“That’s because other shows are so superficial. _Starman_ is special,” his wife assured him.

“Yes, I think so, too,” Sam agreed. He kissed Maggie on the temple, then got up and grabbed his briefcase to read the fan mail he’d brought home.

Soon, Maggie was reading over his shoulder. She picked up an envelope, said, “May I?” and at Sam’s nod, went on to read the letters herself. “These are extraordinary,” she said quietly.

“Huh?” Sam said, startled out of his reading by the sound of her voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” Maggie said. “It’s just that these letters are so…touching. Here’s one from a cancer ward nurse. She says she had a patient who was dying. The man kept asking when _Starman_ was on. After the show was over, he talked with her about all the things he enjoyed in the episode. He seemed to be content once he had seen the show and had a chance to talk about it. Then he died. She said it seemed like he was just holding on to life long enough to see _Starman_ one more time. Isn’t that remarkable?”

Sam nodded. “There have been several letters like that, but that one is the most amazing so far. Here’s one from a mother of an eight-year-old boy with severe asthma. He’s nearly died several times from his asthma, and has to have blood tests all the time to check the levels of his medicine. The mother said the poor little guy would scream and cry about having the test, but he was always brave enough to hold still in spite of being terrified. Then he saw the _Starman_ episode ‘Fever,’ where Starman was sick and went through a lot of tests. When it came time for the blood test, the doctor told Starman he didn’t have to look. Starman said he wanted to watch—he thought it was ‘interesting.’ The next time this little boy had to have a blood test and his mother reminded him to count the holes in the ceiling tile to distract him from the needle, he told her he wanted to watch, because Starman said it was interesting. He didn’t cry at all for that test, or for any blood work since then. The mother said _Starman_ has relieved her and her son of a tremendous amount of stress because of that episode, and she says she owes the writers, the producers, and especially Robert Hays, who brought Starman to life, more than she can ever repay.” With a pensive look on his face, Sam folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, then set it aside on the stack of those he’d finished reading.

“Do you think you can keep _Starman_ from being cancelled?” Maggie asked quietly.

Sam thought a moment, then looked at her seriously. “I’m going to do my best, but it isn’t going to be easy.”

“Nothing worth doing ever is,” Maggie said as she leaned over to kiss the end of his nose. “I love you, Don Quixote. Go get those windmills!”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “Windmills. I wish it were that easy.”

Maggie took his face in her hands and looked seriously into his eyes. “If you believe, you can do it. I believe you can do it. Now it’s your turn.” She kissed him gently on the lips, then, as Sam put an arm around her and returned her kiss, she lost her balance, falling into his lap and sending letters flying everywhere. Sam wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling farther and pulled her more securely into his lap, never breaking the kiss. When she came up for air, Maggie said, “Whew! It’s been a long time since you’ve kissed me like that, buster! Have you been practicing or what?”

Sam smiled and hugged her. “Maybe I was practicing right then.”

Maggie wrapped her arms around his neck, got nose to nose, forehead to forehead with him and said in a playful but sultry voice, “Want to practice some more?”

Sam responded by kissing her again. Leaping into a married person’s life was hard until he began to have feelings for the spouse himself, and his feelings for Maggie were rapidly warming. But, he had work to do, and a big meeting tomorrow….

Maggie sensed his shift in attention, but didn’t resent it. “That meeting is tomorrow, right?” Sam nodded. “Get back to work, then, and save our show! How dare you take a break!” She slid off his lap, kissed his forehead and handed him the spilled mail. “Good-night, sweetheart. It was nice to have my husband back, even if only for a few hours.”

“I enjoyed it, too,” Sam said sincerely. “Goodnight.”  
  
---  
  
As Maggie went up to get ready for bed, Al popped in. “Sam! Were you just making smoochy with the missus?”

Sam looked at Al with a patience-worn-thin expression. “I kissed her goodnight, yes. Why?”

Al’s face lit up. “You did it! Sam, you did it, now you can leap.”

“Huh? Did what?”

“The guy in the waiting room thinks he’s being punished for neglecting his wife and kids. He said she was about ready to divorce him. You made nice-nice with her and now,” he said as he paused to hit the side of the handlink, “Ziggy says there’s a ninety-eight point five percent chance that the marriage is going to be fine. In the previous history, they broke up before that little bambino made it out of the oven, and she miscarried soon after they split up. Now, Ziggy says the baby will be fine, so will the wife, and so will the marriage. Good job, Sam. Now leap!” Al waved his arms in circles aimed at Sam, as if he could push Sam through the leap himself.

“I don’t think I’m through here, Al,” Sam said. He held up the letters in his hands. “I think I have some other business to take care of.”

“What business?”

“ _Starman_.”

“ _Starman_? What’s that? Oh, yeah, given this guy’s job, it must be a TV show.”

Sam nodded. “Yes, Al, a TV show.”

“What do you have to do about it?”

“I have to save the show from cancellation.”

Al became agitated. “Oh, no, no, no, you mustn’t, Sam! That’s what lost this guy his job in the first place, remember? You can’t just go messing around with the schedule.”

“It’s important, Al. Just look at these letters.” Sam held up some of the letters so Al could read them.

Al was impressed. “Huh. I never heard of a television show with that kind of impact.”

“And these aren’t the ‘radical fringe’ or anything. These are teachers, psychologists, engineers, computer experts—intelligent people, not the kind you’d normally think of when you think of someone who’s a ‘fan’ of something.”

“I gotta grant you that,” Al agreed.

Sam rubbed his face, wishing he could wipe away his tiredness. “Go ask Hayden if he tried to do anything about this particular show, okay? Find out exactly what he did, so I won’t duplicate it.” Sam sat looking at Al, whose face was contorting with frustration and indecision. “Al. Go. Please…? Now.”

“If you do the same thing this guy did…”

Sam sighed and said as patiently as he could, “I just asked you to find out what he did so I won’t do the same thing. Now please, ask him!”

Al threw up his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’m going, but I sure hope you figure out a better way to handle this show-saving business than the guy did before. You just can’t lose him this job. That won’t change history for the better.”

“I’m aware of that. I have work to do, and so do you,” Sam reminded him.

“Okay! I’m outta here!” Al said as he punched the handlink. The door slid open behind him and he disappeared.  
  
---  
  
“Good morning, Mr. Hayden,” Marie said brightly as a very weary Sam dragged himself through her office. “Long night, huh? Would you like some coffee?”

“Marie, you’re a godsend. Strong, black, and keep it coming. What time is that meeting?”

“One o’clock.”

Sam looked at the clock on the wall, then at his watch. Eight-thirty in the morning. If he didn’t take any calls or see anyone, didn’t leave his office, he might get his report written in time. Actually, there was no “might” about it. He’d have to.

Sam entered his office, sat down at his desk and opened his briefcase, pulling out letters he’d marked with colored paper clips as ones he’d want to quote. Marie bustled in carrying a tray with a large mug of coffee, with a covered carafe beside it.

“This should be enough to get you started,” she said as she set the tray on the corner of his desk and placed the cup near his hand. “Would you rather ring me when you get low, or do you want me to slip in and check on it from time to time?”

“I’ll ring you. Thanks, Marie. No calls, no visitors, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss.” She closed the door behind her quietly as she left.

Sam was so deeply engrossed in his work that he didn’t notice Al’s arrival until Al had cleared his throat several times. The sound startled Sam.

“Don’t scare me like that!” he said. Before Al could begin venting his grievances at being scolded, Sam went on, “What have you got for me?”

“Well, I talked to the guy and found out how he handled the situation.”

“And?” Sam prompted.

“And…he never recommended _Starman_ at all. Turns out he made a big push for reality programming.”

“What’s that?”

“Cheap shows produced by the network itself. News magazine, tabloid shows, shows with home videos of real crimes that viewers have sent in, junk like that.”

“Yuck. I guess those were on while I was in med school.”

“And while you were interning. No TV for interns—when you weren’t working, you were asleep or studying.”

“Ah, what a life,” Sam said with a rueful shake of his head. “At least now I know I didn’t miss anything exciting on TV. Okay, so what does this guy say about _Starman_?”

“He didn’t know much about it, except that his wife and kids had mentioned it. I got your tapes of the show out of your library and he’s been watching them in the waiting room ever since.”

“I had tapes of it?” Sam’s swiss-cheese mind had completely misplaced that memory.

“Sure! It was your favorite show for years, that and all the generations of Star Trek,” Al assured him.

Sam got back to the subject. “Has he said anything? Does he have an idea of an angle for me to use?”

“I spent some time talking with him about it after he’d watched it for several hours, and now he understands the concepts behind the show, and why the show had such an impact on people. Actually, he didn’t know there had been any impact from Starman until I pointed it out to him. Those letters you showed me last night were a big help.”

“So now what?” Sam said.

“So now you come up with a way to present the data so it impresses the suits, that’s all.”

Sam looked frustrated. “That’s all, huh? Thanks a lot. That wasn’t much help.”

“At least when this guy gets back, he won’t undermine what you’ve done. He’s becoming a true believer, Sam. He finally sees the magic of the show.” Finished with his report, Al crossed his arms and waited for some response from Sam.

Sam rubbed his face wearily and drank some more coffee. The clock on his desk read ten o’clock. Not much time left. “Okay, Al, thanks. I guess I’m on the right track here. I’ll give it my best shot.”

Al gazed at his friend sympathetically. “That’s all anyone can ask, Sam. Good luck. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, and I need it, too,” Sam replied.

“I’ll go talk to him some more, see if I can find out what plays well in these meetings,” Al suggested.

Sam looked up at Al. “That’s a good idea. Thanks. See you later.” His exhaustion was clearly evident.

A line appeared between Al’s eyebrows as he frowned at his friend in concern. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. You just keep on truckin’. Bye, Sam.” He punched a button on the handlink, then walked through the open doorway that appeared behind him.

Sam watched him go. “I wish it were that easy for me,” he said with a sigh, then got back to work.  
  
---  
  
In the board room, Sam shuffled through the viewgraphs Marie had made for him, making sure they were in the order he wanted. He studied his notes and tried not to worry that Marie would not make it to the board room in time with the copies of the written report to hand out. She’d gotten several other secretaries to help her with the typing and the production of the viewgraphs. Sam wished he could take her with him when he leaped into other business people. As a secretary and administrative assistant, she was a real jewel.

Just as the corporate heads were about to be seated, Marie hurried in, a large stack of papers in her arms.

“Here you go, Mr. Hayden,” she whispered as she handed over the reports. “I sure hope there aren’t any typos. We didn’t have time to proofread them very well.”

Sam smiled up at her. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you, Marie. You’ve been a tremendous help.”

“Anything I can do to help the cause,” she said with a smile, then whispered, “ _Starman_ forever!” and left as quickly as she’d entered.  
  
---  
  
Sam had been giving his report for some time now. The faces around the table still wore their reserved looks, but there were beginning to be more and more heads nodding in agreement as he presented his arguments.

“As we can see from this viewgraph,” Sam continued, “ _Starman_ has done better in its time slot than any show we’ve had in that position in years. The viewer mail complains that we’ve changed the time slot so many times, they have trouble finding it. The viewer response has been phenomenal, not in numbers but in quality. That’s something we should be paying more attention to.

“Our network has been struggling with its image for several years now. The people of this great country learn a lot about etiquette, style, language, and acceptable behavior from television. We have complaints from parents and teachers about the poor role models, the bad language, the lack of compassion and consideration for others they see on current shows. Our children repeat what they hear on shows, act the way they see people act on the shows. We have a responsibility that we have neglected, ladies and gentlemen, to the children of our country. They don’t need more cartoons or more action shows or more game shows. What they need is positive role models on quality shows.

“I’d like to propose a radical idea. I’d like to see our network become known as the network of quality programming, not just with the Hallmark Hall of Fame specials and things like that, but with our everyday programming. We can start by giving Starman, a quality series we already own, the best possible time slot, in the family hours, since it’s a family show, hammocked between two very strong shows to help its ratings. Then we don’t move it and we do our best not to preempt it. We advertise it strongly, with ads that emphasize the excellent role models presented therein, and the other outstanding qualities of the show. And then we must leave it in that time slot, continue the advertising blitz and be patient, because it takes time for people to learn new things, and it takes time for quality shows to build an audience. If we renew _Starman_ for a full twenty-two episodes, then stick to our guns and don’t bounce it around the schedule, the show will find its audience. At the moment, we’re in danger of repeating the mistake of NBC when they cancelled Star Trek, another high-quality, innovative, different kind of show that needed time to build its audience. That audience has built, and look at the Star Trek empire today! A huge, active fandom that buys anything and everything they can that’s even remotely related to their favorite show, four feature films so far and more proposed, a spinoff series, the original show in syndication all over the world. There was a lot of money to be made that was lost, and a reputation for courage and quality in programming to be made that was also lost, all because NBC didn’t give it a proper chance. Let’s not duplicate their mistake.” With that, Sam sat down.

The room was quiet as every person there sat staring at Sam. He tried not to squirm uncomfortably under their collective gaze. He wasn’t sure if their looks showed disapproval or indignation or what, but he had a sinking feeling he had failed at his task. He swallowed hard, then straightened his back and forced himself to meet the eyes of everyone there, one by one. He tried to exude confidence and sincerity, instead of the insecurity and despair that were building inside him. His eye was caught by the motion of the head of network programming standing and moving to the podium.

“I must say, Mr. Hayden, your report is quite a surprise. I thought you had indicated an interest in reality programming,” his boss said.

“I’ve changed my mind since I’ve done this research, sir,” Sam replied. “And I’ve come to believe there are more important things than ratings, although they are important, too.”

His boss frowned. “Ratings. Yes, well, they are quite important. That’s how we make our money.”

Sam felt a flash of indignation. “But, sir, when is it enough money? At some point in time, many people have to make a decision about whether they’re going to pursue a meaningful career or one that simply makes the most money. We have to decide every so many years whether we’re going to vote for higher taxes so our kids get a good education or whether we’re going to vote down the school levy because we want to have more vacations or a more expensive car or whatever. There has to be quality in life, not just a quantity of money or consumer goods. Without that quality, we dehumanize ourselves, and since, as a television network, we help mold people’s behavior and opinions, we’re contributing to the dehumanization of our nation if we emphasize profits over quality.” As he stopped to catch his breath, he saw Al beside him. Al stood casually with one arm across his chest, a cigar held in his other hand near his face. Sam looked at Al, willing him to say something that would help him.

Al tilted his head and said, “That was great, Sam. Now sit down and let them think about what you’ve said. Either you’ve won or you’ve ruined this guy’s career, but it’s out of your hands now.”

Sam scowled, irritated by what Al had said, and not willing to admit defeat. However, he could think of nothing more to do at this point, and sat down quietly.

The programming chief stood silently studying Sam, his face unreadable. The others around the table remained still, all watching their boss, wondering how he was going to react to Sam’s tirade. A small voice from the back of the room made everybody’s head swing to see who was speaking.

“He’s right, you know. You should listen to him. I know a lot of people, even people who work for this network, who have stopped watching network shows and just watch the cable channels that show reruns of old series, because they can’t stand the foul language, the bad attitudes and the lowlifes held up as lead characters in shows,” Marie said. She stood wringing her hands, but determined to speak. “I’ve worked for this network for thirty years now, and I’ve worked for most of the people in this room at one time or another. You may fire me for interrupting your meeting and saying my piece, but I’m tired of the way things are going on this network. I used to be so proud to work here, but now I’m ashamed of some of the trash we put on the air in the guise of entertainment. Mr. Hayden has brought a breath of fresh air to this boardroom, and you should listen to what he says…and then do it!” She took a deep breath, wrung her hands once more, then said, “I’m done now. Thank you for your time. Please forgive the interruption.” She turned and slipped out the door as quietly as she had come in.

Some of those in the room shook their heads and laughed nervously as Marie left. There was a murmuring building around the table, but it was a long time before anyone spoke to Sam. A man two seats down leaned back in his chair and patted Sam on the back. “Amazing report, Hayden. It’s about time somebody said the emperor was naked,” the man said with a chuckle.

With a hesitant smile on his face, Sam thanked the man. Just then, the programming chief called the room to order.

“Okay, we’ve heard from Mr. Hayden and from his secretary. Do we have any more who would like to speak?” The room was silent, then one man slipped up a hand, cleared his throat and said, “All I can say is, Hayden’s got more courage than most of us here. I’ve heard complaints about the deteriorating quality of network programming for years, but I never had the courage to say anything about it…until now. I agree with Hayden’s assessment, and move that we proceed according to his recommendations.”

The room was quiet again, then someone said, “Hear, hear! I second the motion.”

The programming chief looked around at his board, a bewildered look on his face. “Well. That’s a surprise. Okay, well, we have a motion on the floor. Any discussion?”

A voice rang out, “Call for the question!”

The programming chief was shocked. “No discussion? Well, the question has been called. All those in favor of following Hayden’s recommendations, signify by saying ‘aye.’ “ There was a loud chorus of “ayes.” “Opposed by like sign,” the programming chief continued. There was a moment of hesitation before a few softly voiced “ayes” were heard, along with two or three loud ones. It was obvious there were more affirmative votes than negative ones. “I don’t believe it, but the motion carries. We’ll contact the producers and get a start-up date set up with them by tomorrow. Next item on the agenda….” His words were drowned out by the victorious whoops of some of his board members.

“Sam! You did it!” Al chortled.

Sam sat smiling and shaking his head. “I don’t believe it,” he said. He slid out of his chair and out the door, shaking hands and receiving congratulatory pats on the back as he went. Outside the door, Marie waited, tension making her cherubic face look drawn and old.

“Marie,” Sam said. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Marie’s face lit up. “Do you mean…?”

“It passed. They’re going to renew _Starman_ for a full year, give it the good time slot we talked about, everything.”

For once in her life, Marie was speechless. After a moment, she simply smiled and said, “I knew you were a good man, Mr. Hayden. It’s an honor to be working for you.”

“It’s an honor to work with you, Marie,” Sam replied. “Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He reached out and drew her into a warm hug. While he hugged her, Al punched buttons on the handlink, growled in frustration, hit the side of handlink and smiled as the handlink whined in protest. “Okay, Sam, you’ve changed history. _Starman_ will run for ten more years, and the ripple effect is astounding. Most television shows in the future will emphasize quality, not ratings points. There will be very few shows with wimpy parents and foul-mouthed kids. There will be more positive role models. As a result, people, especially children, will use less foul language, be more considerate and caring toward each other. The United States and other countries where _Starman_ is shown become more ecology-minded, and in a non-threatening, non-confrontational way. Robert Hays becomes as big and as beloved a star as Jimmy Stewart, with a whole slew of blockbuster movies and a star on the Walk of Fame to his credit. The Barnes kid becomes a versatile character actor, a la Jack Nicholson, who is the kid’s idol, I believe. The villain, Michael Cavanaugh, gets all the roles Gene Hackman is too old for. The guy who plays the klutzy assistant—Patrick Culliton is his name—he becomes a famous screenwriter and novelist, and acts when he feels like it. Good work, Sam. Bye-bye.” Al wiggled his fingers at Sam in a whimsical wave, and Sam leaped.

 

The End

 

 

Author’s Afterword: This story is based on part of the history of the Spotlight STARMAN grassroots campaign to return _Starman_ to the air. The statements about the “quality” of the fans come from quotes by Robert Hays, Michael Cavanaugh and Patrick Culliton. These statements are included here not to “stroke the egos” of those in the fandom, but because they are the kind of tool that was useful in trying to change some people’s opinion of the show in real life, therefore also useful to Sam in this case.

The testimonials by the nurse and the mother of the asthmatic child are true stories. The nurse is Teresa E. of Carmichael, California (and used with permission—Thanks, Teresa!), and the mother of the asthmatic child is the author of this piece of wishful thinking, Abraxan.

Although there are those who will argue the point, the concept of television influencing people’s lives to the extent of their language and behavior has been observed by educators, including this author, for years. Here’s just one example: when the slang term “bitching” (either to mean someone is complaining about something, or to mean something is really terrific, depending on the usage) began to be used on television in the early 1990’s, it also appeared in the classroom, even among young children. I have witnessed it. Although such language may be condoned among adults in California, where most television shows originate, in the most of the country that kind of word is considered profanity, and not to be used by children or in polite company. That’s only one example of this TV-influencing-life situation, but I hope it’s enough to explain parts of this story to the doubting reader.

Ed Cintron was a real executive at ABC who handled the fan mail. Tim Hayden is a fictitious character, but I sure wish he were real, and that Sam Beckett would leap into him and make this a true story instead of fiction!


End file.
